


Fractured Pieces

by Tenoko1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Care-giving, Epic Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic bed sharing, Post episode s11e02, Pre-Episode s11e03, Pre-Relationship, Profound Bond, Showers, Soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written after 11x02 and before 11x03. Dean and Sam try to help Castiel before the angel can be shattered irreparably. How did it take them so long to get on the same page again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractured Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Written post 11x02 airing, pre-11x03 airdate, so it probably won’t be canon compliant at all. Pre-Dean/Cas relationship.

             Even managing to stop Cas from hurting the woman in the warehouse things were still bad. Cas had killed a demon with his bare hands and the blood all over him was horrifically _wrong_. Dean wasn’t sure how they managed, but somewhere between Dean getting Cas’ attention and Sam ushering the people out as quietly as possible, they’d limited the risk of human casualty to just themselves.

            Cas’ eyes were animalistic and wild, even as they took in Dean, zeroing in on him rather than gaining focus and clarity. The familiar face seemed to keep the curse at bay, though, kept him from attacking even while the low growls and snarls continued.

            When Sam touched his shoulder, that fragile control shattered, and it took both of them to wrangle Cas outside and into the backseat of the Impala, with Dean climbing in after to try and pin him to the leather while Sam gunned the car home.

            “Hey! Hey! Cas, it’s me,” Dean barked, muscles tight as he grappled with the other man, restraining the hands that were curled into claws and straining for Dean’s face and eyes.

            He was thankful for the sigils they’d drawn all over the windows meant to suppress an angel’s power to that of a human. Dean didn’t want to have to choose between using the last of the holy oil to cure people or to protect Castiel, because he know which he would choose- without hesitation.

 

            Like before though, having Dean as his focal point seemed to quell the beast in Cas. And though he still growled low in this throat, there was something in his wild eyes that seemed to recognize Dean. He frowned and jerked, clearly confused and trying to assess which of his urges to obey, but he didn’t fight him.

            “Heey, Cas,” Dean called softly, grip no less firm, but tone and expression as non-threatening as possible. “C’mon, get it together, buddy. You can do this. It’s me, Dean.”

            Cas continued to breath heavily through flared nostrils, and Dean could feel Sam’s worried gaze watching in the rear view. Castiel must have sensed it, too, because those red eyes snapped to the front seat, breaking the spell and causing Cas to thrash and buck again, the enclosed space filled with his maddened snarls.

            Sam shifted his gaze back to the road, knuckles whitening as his fingers gripped the wheel and he pushed the Impala to go even faster.

            “Cas!” Dean grit out, sorely worried he was about to lose his hold on the angel. “I need you,” he began, faltering when Castiel stiffened. The ‘to calm down’ died on Dean’s lips. “I need you,” he repeated, voice softer, and was gratified when the angel’s eyes returned to him, startled and confused. “I need you.”

            Dean wasn’t sure why that phrase worked, if because it triggered the memory of when Dean had first uttered those words, or if it was just the words themselves, the significance they held that did the trick, but he would take it.

            “I need you,” he whispered, releasing Cas’ limp arms to curl a hand around the back of his neck instead, thumb resting against his jaw as he leaned in until their foreheads touched. “Come back. Come back, Cas, I need you.”

            No matter the reason, Castiel was completely subdued by the time they got him to the bunker, silent and docile as they coaxed him from the car and guided him inside; Dean murmuring nonsensical encouragement the whole time. Cas’ eyes were still red-rimmed and vacant, though, staring blankly down at his hands, or well- the blood coating his hands, his clothes.

            “C’mon, Cas. We’ll get you cleaned up and a change of clothes,” he said, meeting Sam’s eye with a jerk of his head.

            His brother disappeared with a nod, and Dean led Castiel toward the showers.

            The angel was unresponsive, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was due to the spell or if he’d fallen into a catatonic depression and retreated into himself. Even after Dean started the water, filling the air with steam to combat the chilled air, Castiel made no move or seemed even aware of his surroundings, not even as Sam came back with a soft bundle of clothing. Worried, puppyish eyes flicked between Cas and Dean until Dean heaved a tired sigh, glancing once at his brother.

            “Go grab another towel and change of clothes for me as well, please.”

            Sam’s brows rose. “You sure?”

            Dean just nodded and reached for the lapels of his friend’s coat, while Sam faltered with concern and indecision before ducking back out of the room. Still talking in low tones, Dean helped Castiel out of his blood splattered clothes, trying not to think about how every time they’d seen each other recently- one of them was covered in the stuff.

            He stripped Cas down to his boxer briefs, leaving his friend that small modesty, before doing the same himself, offering Sam a nod of thanks as he popped back in with Dean’s bundle before leaving once more.

They had the Darkness to contend with, but Dean knew Sam would immediately start looking for a way to help Castiel first. It made him love his kid brother even more.

Alone, Dean guided Cas into the shower stall with a soft, “Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? You’ll feel like a new man.”

            He took a warm rag and cleaned the blood from Castiel’s face first, keeping one hand curled around he angel’s neck and occasionally stroking over the ends of his hair with his thumb. He knew talking helped, but had no soothing reassurances to offer. None that would be of any comfort anyway, and none that Castiel didn’t already know, like how they were looking for a cure, and that people and demons were searching for Rowena so she could lift the curse or cast its counter. Instead, Dean made him promises he could keep, removing all traces of blood from Cas’ hair and skin as he did.

            He told him that he’d long before designated the room next to his own as Cas’. Told him how they’d already put a few things in it over time that they thought Cas would like, and how Charlie had left him a mix cd and a book she had wanted to loan him. He reminded Castiel that they were all alive and together again in a synchronicity they hadn’t had since they’d stopped the Apocalypse together.

            Continually rinsing the rag until the water ran clear again, Dean took Cas’ hand in his and began cleaning the blood from each finger and even under his nails, talking all the while. He offered to make him soup, that it was an ancient human tradition steeped in the most powerful magics. When he finished with one hand, he started on the other, promising that once he was dressed and his stomach was full, he would feel better and that tomorrow would be a new day.

            His words fell off when Cas’ hand moved in his own, his other coming up so that he could examine his palms, and Cas’ faint shivers became full-body shudders instead.

            “What have I done?” he whispered. “Those _people_. Hannah. _Charlie_ ,” his voice broke on something close to a sob, and Dean ran his hands over Cas’ upper arms, trying to be soothing, but not really sure how.

            “Not your fault, Cas. You hear me? It _wasn’t_ your fault, none of it.”

            “Ephraim, the angels, even Crowley and Rowena: what _am_ I? Why am I still alive when all I do is bring destruction rather than peace? What kind of angel brings only _death_ to those he sought to _protect_?” A sob escaped him, so broken and miserable it left Dean utterly helpless. “What have I _done_?”

            When his knees seemed to give under the weight of another sob, Dean shut off the water spray and sunk to his knees as Castiel crumpled in grief. He gathered his distraught angel to him and held him tightly as the pain spilled over and out unencumbered. Dean’s heart _hurt_ at the sound of it, at being so utterly powerless to help him, so he just held him instead, tried to remind Cas that he _wasn’t_ alone.

            He hugged Cas and even ran a hand over his wet hair as the angel buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and shook as though he might fall apart.

            Eventually, Dean rubbed Cas’ arm again, once his grief had subsided and a chill was beginning to creep in.

            “C’mon, Cas. We are both effectively naked here. Let’s get you dried off and warm before we both catch colds, okay? You’ll get through this. We’ll do it together, alright?”

            “I’m sorry, Dean,” said Cas, accepting Dean’s help back to his feet, though he still looked broken and small, shoulders hunched forward as they were.

            “You don’t owe me an apology, Cas. Not for anything, okay, buddy?”

            The angel nodded and said nothing as Dean used one of the towels Sam had brought and wrapped it around his wet body, then used the other one to get some of the water from Castiel’s hair, leaving it sticking up at all kinds of wild angles. Then Dean gave him the clothes to change into while Dean dried and changed as well.

            True to his word, Dean took Cas by the hand and lead him through the bunker to the kitchen. Once Cas was seated, Dean even knelt to put socks on him- ignoring Cas’ weak protests- determined no part of the angel should be cold or exposed. Then, he made soup, an easy beef and vegetable that he’d always found sort of comforting when sick or just chilled through in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with too much bad happening and not nearly enough good.

            Once they’d eaten, Dean led Cas to the library to check on Sam’s progress. Sam, who looked appropriately pleased when presented with a freshly cleaned and fed Castiel.

            “Feel better now, Cas?”

            “Of course he does,” Dean said. “Color in his cheeks and everything.”

            “That’s great! Better still, I think I’ve got a couple of leads here- both for tracking down Rowena and contingency plans is we can’t.” He smiled and it warmed Dean to see how it reached his eyes. “We’re gonna get you better, man.”

            “Do you need-“ Cas began, taking a step forward, but Dean landed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back, guiding him toward the bedrooms.

            “Actually, sleep sounds like an _awesome_ idea, and angel or no, you could probably use a few hours of it.”

            Castiel didn’t fight him or try to argue, and Dean hadn’t expected him to, the angel’s expression still subdued and haunted like it was. He led him to Dean’s own room, and clapped him on the shoulder when he looked at him in confusion.

            “You can bunk with me for tonight- in case you need something in the middle of the night.”

            _In case you have nightmares. In case you wake up scared or sad. In case you wake up and can’t breathe under the crushing weight of best intentions gone horribly wrong. In case you wake up and need a friend._

            He squeezed Cas’ shoulder. “I’ll go grab your pillow and an extra blanket.”

            When he came back, Castiel was already curled on his side in bed. Dean wordlessly laid another blanket over him, crawling into bed as he turned off the light, and pointedly didn’t think about how guy friends did _not_ just do this with each other. Of course, they’d never followed any of the rules anyway, why start now? Especially when they were such stupid rules, now that he thought about it.

            As the darkness and silence settled over them, Dean hesitated only a few moments before closing the space between them and curling his body around Castiel’s, an arm slipping around his waist.

            The angel stiffened, head turning as if trying to see Dean in the pitch black.

            “Dean?”

            “We made it through one more day, Cas,” he told him, voice pitched warm and low. “We made it through and we’re all home and _safe_ , you know?” He waited, letting Cas resettle against the mattress, body relaxing and even pressing back against him. “Things have been _rough_ lately. We’ve all been trying to tackle our problems on our own, somehow forgetting that when we worked together- we _saved the world_. …But now you’re _home_ , Cas. We’re all here, and do you know the best part?”

            “What?”

            “Tomorrow’s a new day. And we’ll get through it, like we should have from the beginning: together.”

            Smiling softly to himself, Castiel closed his eyes and let himself rest, assured for the first time in a long time, he had a family that would stay by his side, and he wouldn’t face his battles alone, not anymore.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fractured Pieces [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5074405) by [Tenoko1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1)




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